


Masked and Anonymous

by panickyintheuk



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Escort Service, Identity Porn, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 10:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panickyintheuk/pseuds/panickyintheuk
Summary: "When Mr. Stark opened the door, he had his shirt untucked, and no shoes on. It was evening, and it was his own apartment, and Steve was dropping by unannounced, so that was all really fair enough, but it was also the least put-together Steve had ever seen him."Steve drops in on Avengers benefactor Mr. Stark, but it seems that Mr. Stark was expecting him.





	Masked and Anonymous

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a bingo card I never ended up finishing, but taken off the shelf and given a shiny new coat of paint for a [kinkmeme prompt](https://cap-ironman.dreamwidth.org/1856385.html?thread=13842049#cmt13842049)! Prompter, this is definitely nowhere near as angsty as you wanted (it's 0% angsty), but I hope you like it anyway.
> 
> The universe is early 616-ish. Early 616-adjacent. You know the kind of thing.
> 
> CW for extremely mild misunderstanding-based dubcon.

When Mr. Stark opened the door, he had his shirt untucked, and no shoes on. It was evening, and it was his own apartment, and Steve was dropping by unannounced, so that was all really fair enough, but it was also the least put-together Steve had ever seen him. He had never even seen Mr. Stark without a tie on before, come to think of it. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea.

Steve had just been in the neighborhood, and he’d been meaning to talk to Mr. Stark for a while now about how the Avengers could best make use of the funds which Mr. Stark very generously provided. So far, they seemed to be indefinite, but Steve was concerned about whether the team was being responsible in allocating them. He didn’t want Mr. Stark to revoke his sponsorship, of course (though Iron Man seemed very confident that that wouldn’t happen, and was always telling him not to worry about it), but he didn’t want to take advantage of Mr. Stark’s generosity, either.

Considering the Avengers lived in his house, they really didn’t see Mr. Stark very often. He usually slept in this apartment, rather than the mansion. So Steve had thought he’d take the initiative and make a visit, rather than waiting until the next time they happened to be in the same room together. Perhaps he should have scheduled a meeting officially. Mr. Stark was obviously trying to relax, and Steve was interrupting him.

He didn’t seem awfully put out, though. Instead, he grinned wolfishly at Steve. Steve had seen that expression on Mr. Stark’s face before, but never up close, and never directed at _him_. He might have… thought about it, once or twice, but he’d certainly never expected it.

“Hi,” said Mr. Stark, still grinning. “You’re early.”

Steve frowned. He hadn’t known that Mr. Stark was expecting him at all, let alone at a particular time. “I —”

“Not that I’m complaining. Come in.”

“Thank you,” said Steve, wrong-footed. He stepped inside. It was rather dimly-lit, but perhaps Mr Stark preferred it that way.

“You look really fantastic, by the way,” said Mr. Stark. Steve hadn’t bothered to change out of his uniform after their scuffle with the Wrecking Crew earlier; perhaps Mr. Stark had picked up on his feeling a little foolish about it, and was trying to put him at ease. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

“Well, thanks, so do — I mean —”

“Hey, relax,” said Mr. Stark. “You seem nervous. Is everything okay?”

“Uh,” said Steve, rubbing the back of his neck. Mr. Stark always made him nervous, as a matter of fact, but he didn’t usually seem to notice. Of course, this wasn’t usually how Mr. Stark acted in general. He seemed a little… yes, that was it.

“Mr. Stark, have you been drinking?” he blurted out, realizing a moment too late how rude that sounded. It certainly wasn’t any of his business, and he’d surprised the man at home, after all.

Mr. Stark just laughed ruefully. “Just a bit,” he said. “I suppose I’m a little nervous myself. I know what people say about me, but this isn’t exactly — I don’t do this a lot. Or ever, honestly.” Do what? He couldn’t mean _drink_ , but what on Earth was he nervous about? “Oh, would you like one? A drink, I mean?”

“Oh, no, thank you,” said Steve. He wouldn’t mind settling his nerves a little, but a drink wouldn’t do that. “It doesn’t do a whole lot for me. The serum, you know.”

“Ah,” said Mr. Stark thoughtfully. “You’re very thorough, aren’t you?”

“That’s… sort of my job,” said Steve, at a complete loss, “but —”

“Right,” said Mr. Stark, cutting him off. “Well, do stop me if I’m taking any liberties.” Then he leaned in, and all of a sudden he was _kissing_ Steve. It was electric; Steve was kissing back before he could think about it, hands coming to rest gently at Mr. Stark’s elbows. Mr. Stark nipped at his bottom lip before he pulled away, and Steve shivered. He’d never been kissed quite like that before.

“You’re very eager,” said Mr. Stark. “Do you… maybe have a little crush on me?”

“I…I mean, yes,” said Steve, still reeling from the kiss. “I’ve — I’ve thought about this before. A few times.”

“ _Really_? Well, that makes things much nicer,” he said, smiling warmly at Steve. Steve smiled back, somewhere between baffled and pleased.

This all seemed a little strange and sudden, but with the part of his mind that wasn’t completely distracted, Steve was putting the pieces together. Mr. Stark had been expecting him, for some reason — perhaps he’d left Steve a message at the mansion which he hadn’t picked up yet, and assumed that he had got it. He must have been planning on making a move on Steve tonight. He was a little tipsy, which accounted for some of the odd things he had said. Steve just hoped he wasn’t _too_ tipsy.

“Look,” he started, “are you sure you’re not… I don’t want to take advantage, if you’re…”

Mr. Stark laughed again. It was a lovely, warm sound. “You’re sweet,” he said. “Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing.”

“If you’re sure,” said Steve. He really, really did want to keep on kissing him, and as if reading his mind, Mr. Stark began to lean back in. Steve started to tug his cowl off first, but Mr. Stark put a hand on his to stop him.

“No, leave it on,” he said, low, close to Steve’s mouth.

“Oh,” said Steve, “all right.” Then they were kissing again, and that was wonderful.

“I’m glad kissing’s okay,” said Mr. Stark.

“Kissing’s wonderful,” Steve told him distractedly, attempting to carry on with it, but Mr. Stark was saying something else.

“I know there’s no penetration,” he said, to Steve’s confusion, “but can I do this?”

“Why —” Steve started, before Mr. Stark’s hand was cupping the outline of Steve’s erection through his uniform’s leather pants, then tracing it with one finger. Steve jerked towards the touch. He had got hard from kissing — he couldn’t help it, he was always responsive, and Mr. Stark was… well. Steve might have thought about this more than just a few times. “Yes,” he breathed.

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Mm,” said Steve, nodding fervently.

“What else do you like?”

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I — I ought to tell you, I haven’t been with a man before.”

Mr. Stark pulled back. “Are you serious?” he asked dubiously.

“Um, yes,” said Steve. He wasn’t sure why Mr. Stark would be surprised, except perhaps that Steve was so enthusiastic. Well, it wasn’t as if he’d never _wanted_ to. “I don’t really have an awful lot of experience with anybody,” he added.

“Oh,” said Mr. Stark, face clearing, “ _I_ see. Well, don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.” Steve wasn’t sure he ought to find that quite as arousing as he did. “Is that okay,” Mr. Stark added, in a different tone of voice, “calling you ‘baby’?”

Steve nodded, since it turned out — rather to his surprise — that it very much was. “Can I — can I call you ‘Tony’?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry, I should have said.”

“You have,” said Steve. The first two or three times they’d spoken, Mr. Stark had asked Steve to call him ‘Tony’, but Steve couldn’t get used to it, and eventually Mr. Stark had seemed to give up on it. “I just, it didn’t seem right. But now —”

“Did I? Oh. Yes, I think we’re probably past the formalities now, aren’t we? So, what should I call you? Other than ‘baby’, I mean.”

“‘Steve’, of course,” he said, puzzled. He was even more puzzled when that made Tony hesitate.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You don’t have to… what if I called you ‘Cap’?”

“Well,” said Steve, “If you want to, I guess. Can we —”

Tony gave a short laugh. “Yes, glad we got the housekeeping out of the way. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

And then he stuck his hand down Steve’s pants.

“God,” said Steve.

“Not my most sophisticated move,” said Tony, “but a classic for a reason. Is this all right?”

“It’s very all right,” Steve said, once he had located his tongue.

“Good. God, you’re incredible,” said Tony, resting his free hand lightly on Steve’s chest. “You look perfect. I wasn’t expecting — wow, you have a really nice cock. Whatever I’m paying you, it’s not enough.”

Steve laughed despite himself. Maybe he ought to be offended, especially since he didn’t actually take any wages out of Tony’s money — his army back pay saw to that — but he knew Tony was only joking around. And he did live in Tony’s childhood home rent-free, after all. “I don’t think having a nice cock is really part of my job description, Tony,” he said, managing not to stumble over the word ‘cock’. He’d heard worse in the army, of course, but that was different. Still, if he was going to do it, he should be able to talk about it.

“Isn’t it?” asked Tony. “It definitely helps. I like it when you call me Tony.”

“I like saying it. You’re — you keep saying such nice things about me and I, I just wanted to say that I think you’re really something too.”

“Yeah, I’m something all right,” said Tony, pulling his hand out. Steve was worried he’d upset him somehow, and really, he ought to be better at expressing himself, that hadn’t been very good at all, had it? But Tony was just working at getting Steve’s fly open, and then he properly got his hand on Steve and started kissing him again.

“Wait,” said Steve, which took rather a lot of willpower. “I — I want to do something for you, too. Can we — is there a bed, or —”

Tony raised one eyebrow, which was sort of devastating. “Of course there’s a bed. I know I’m supposed to be eccentric, but I don’t sleep in a coffin or anything.”

Steve laughed. “All right, well, can we use it?”

“The coffin? What the hell, I’m game.”

“For goodness’ sake, Tony.”

Tony grinned and grabbed his hand, tugging him along the hallway. Steve followed very willingly.

*  
Once they got to the bedroom, Steve got his hand under Tony’s shirt, and found that he had an undershirt tucked into his pants. Steve started to pull at it, wanting very much to feel Tony’s skin properly, but Tony took hold of his wrists and redirected them to his behind, instead. It was hard to feel too put out about it, but it was a little strange.

“I have some scars,” said Tony. “The t-shirt stays on.”

“I don’t care about —”

“It’s non-negotiable,” said Tony, not unkindly. “Is it going to be a problem?” His voice was gentle, but very firm.

“I guess not,” said Steve. It wasn’t as if he would be able to feel Tony’s skin next to his own, anyway, if his uniform stayed on, and that was what Tony seemed to want. And it went without saying that he wanted Tony to be comfortable, and if his scars made him self-conscious, that was that. Of course Steve would have liked to look at him, but it wasn’t as if Tony was an eyesore with his clothes on. Perhaps once Tony got more comfortable around him, he’d let him take the undershirt off, and Steve could look at and touch every inch of him, as he wanted to — but this was all right, this was good too.

*

He sat on the edge of the bed as Tony took off the rest of his clothes. He was pretty sure that Tony wasn’t doing it in a deliberately arousing way — it certainly wasn’t a striptease — but he moved with such an unconscious grace that Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away, and every new region of skin revealed got him wound up tighter. Tony was gorgeous to look at, just as Steve had known he would be. Of course, the undershirt stayed on, and that was a shame, but who really cared about that when Tony had hooked his thumbs into his black briefs and was sliding them down? His cock jutted out, a slightly darker olive than the rest of him, and circumcised — Steve had never seen a circumcised man hard before. His own cock throbbed, wanting Tony’s hand on it again. Steve reached out for him without really thinking about it, and Tony walked towards him then straddled his lap. 

“You’re gorgeous,” said Steve, the words coming easier now — and Tony really was, like a dream come true.

“Flatterer,” said Tony.

“You are,” insisted Steve, and carried on before Tony could contradict him, “am I leaving all of this on?”

“Yes, please,” said Tony. “Don’t worry, soldier, I’ll make sure you have a good time.” He reached behind Steve, and for a moment their bodies were pressed close together, but not for long enough. Tony was picking something off the bed behind him.

“Here you go,” he said. “I assumed we didn’t need condoms because we’re not actually… but I do have some, if you prefer.”

“Whatever you like,” said Steve.

“I’d rather not, then,” said Tony. “Seems like overkill, right?”

Steve shrugged and nodded. He trusted Tony to know best.

Tony smacked the thing he’d picked up off the bed, a tube of something, against Steve’s chest. It seemed to be something like K-Y Jelly, though it was called something else. Tony didn’t seem to want full sex (Steve wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed about that. Like he’d told Tony, he’d never done this with a man. Perhaps they could work up to it?), but Steve guessed that he was supposed to use it like lotion. He unscrewed the cap, then hesitated.

“Do you want me to leave the gloves on, too?” he asked. It would probably ruin them, but hell, he’d ruined gloves in much less pleasant ways than this. And besides, Tony would be the one replacing them, so if he didn’t mind, why should Steve?

“Yeah,” said Tony, “Christ, that’s hot.”

And once Steve had a hand on Tony, he had to agree. He’d never thought of his uniform as _sexy_ before (although he knew some people thought it was), but he could certainly appreciate the way Tony’s cock looked against the red of his glove; as much as he wanted to touch Tony with his bare skin, there was something delicious about Tony’s reactions that he didn’t want to give up.

And soon enough, Tony had a hand on him, too, and Steve had known that Tony’s hands could do clever things, and he might even have had ideas about what those hands could do to Steve, but actually being here, knowing the exact texture of Tony’s palm and fingertips, the places where the callouses gave way to soft, smooth skin… even a very _good_ imagination wasn’t equal to this.

Their hands moved in rhythm, and then Tony shifted so that their cocks were touching too, and a jolt went through Steve, and that was even better — he could almost, but not quite, fit them both in his gloved hand, but Tony helped, and the combination of leather and skin was incredible, and so were the noises Tony made — not loud, not much more than breaths, but incredible anyway.

A very small part of him thought that maybe he shouldn’t get his uniform dirty, but the rest of him didn’t care, and besides, it had seen worse. Anyway, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself, at this point, with Tony’s beautiful cock in his hand, and Tony’s harsh breaths mingling with his own, and the way Tony’s hand moved; Tony’s strong legs on either side of Steve’s, and Steve’s other hand splayed across Tony’s muscular rear, and… everything about this was so much more intense than he could have imagined. Than he _had_ imagined. If this was what it was like with just their hands, and with his uniform still on, what would it be like if Tony let him…

So he came on his uniform, right on the stars and stripes, and Tony stared and drew in a harsh breath, and then he did too.

“Holy shit,” said Tony, still staring.

“Language,” said Steve, mostly teasing, then leaned forward to steal a kiss. Then he let himself fall back against the bed, and Tony rolled off him so they were lying side by side.

“Hang on,” said Tony, “I have some wipes somewhere…”

He rooted around in the bedside drawer and pulled out a pack, then dabbed at the star on Steve’s chest. “It’s not too bad,” he said dubiously. “I’m pretty sure you can wear this again. I’m not sure about the gloves, though…”

“I figured,” said Steve, peeling off said gloves, turning them inside-out, and tossing them onto the floor. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You can bill me for them,” said Tony, and Steve wasn’t sure if he was serious, but he sounded it.

“I’d be paying for them out of your money, anyway,” he pointed out. All the team’s uniforms and equipment came out of Tony’s money. It would be silly to ask him for extra just for some gloves.

“Well, yeah,” said Tony, frowning, “but that’s —”

“Tony. Don’t worry about it. They’re just gloves. And I offered.” He kissed Tony again, lightly, on the lips.

Tony smiled at him, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear, stroking the shell of it with his finger afterward. Everything felt good right now, but that felt particularly wonderful.

“I really like you,” said Tony, sounding a little nervous about saying it.

“I really like you, too,” said Steve. He had thought, or at least _hoped_ , that that much went without saying, even in this day and age.

“Was this okay?” asked Tony. “How would you feel about doing this again?”

“Yes, this was — I’d like that. I was sort of hoping that this wasn’t a one-time thing, actually.”

“So was I,” said Tony, “but I wanted to make sure we were — compatible, obviously. And I feel like we definitely are? But I don’t want you to feel pressured into making any kind of commitment if you’re uncomfortable with any aspect of this. It’s hard to be into it when the other person isn’t — but it seemed like you were enjoying yourself?” He sounded anxious, but also oddly formal, as if they were negotiating a business deal instead of having — a relationship talk? Something like that, at least.

“Well, yes,” said Steve, “of course.” He’d rather like to get his uniform off next time, and maybe do… more things. But he’d enjoyed this very much.

“I hope I didn’t cross any lines,” said Tony.

“Lines?”

“Well, you know. You would have said, wouldn’t you, if I did anything that wasn’t okay? You wouldn’t just go along with it because —”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, “of course not. Everything was — great. And you asked me if I was okay roughly every thirty seconds.”

“Sorry,” said Tony, although Steve hadn’t meant it as a complaint. “I’m not really used to this.”

Steve frowned. “I thought — well, I was given the impression that you were fairly… experienced.” Compared to Steve, at least.

“Promiscuous,” translated Tony, “sure, but this is different.”

“Oh,” said Steve, face heating a little. He had _hoped_ that he might be different from Tony’s well-publicized… flings, but it was nice to hear it.

“I just meant —” Tony started, but Steve took his hand, and he stopped.

“It’s all right,” said Steve. He would understand if Tony didn’t want to rush into anything, but he didn’t want to hear him take it back. “You don’t have to worry. I had a wonderful time. I’d really like to see you again.”

Tony smiled at him again, and Steve wondered whether perhaps he could stay and they could do it again now, or soon at least. But then the doorbell rang, and Tony groaned.

“No rest for the wicked,” he said, stretching and getting up off the bed in one fluid motion, then grabbing his pants and stepping into them, not bothering with the briefs. He shrugged his button-down on over the undershirt, hanging loose.

Steve felt a momentary stab of possessiveness, of not wanting anybody else to see Tony like this, but he knew that was silly. Plenty of people had already seen Tony like this, anyway, although Steve found he didn’t like thinking about that very much. Well, he always knew he had a jealous streak — as long as he didn’t give into it, it was all right.

He listened to Tony make his way to the door, and finally tugged off his cowl. It was comfortable enough, but it was a relief to take it off. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead which he wiped on the back of his arm.

“What the fuck?” he heard Tony say from the hallway. “There’s obviously been some kind of mistake.”

Steve swung his legs off the bed and padded to the bedroom door, sticking his head around it. There was a figure just outside the apartment’s doorway, but he couldn’t make them out from this angle — Tony, though, stood there, looking baffled, before he turned to look at Steve and his eyes went wide, mouth falling open slightly. Steve wondered vaguely whether there was anything on his face.

“Ah. Well, this is embarrassing,” said Tony mildly. “Hi, Steve.

Steve lifted his hand in a wave.

“Uh… I’m really sorry about this,” said Tony to the figure in the doorway, “but there’s been a change of plans. You should probably go. Make that definitely.”

“You know, we have a twenty-four-hour cancellation policy,” said the person in the doorway — a man, it sounded like. Discomfort was rolling off of Tony. Steve frowned.

“Sure,” said Tony, “you can keep the money, it’s fine, just —”

“He asked you to leave,” said Steve at the same time, coming to stand behind Tony. Now that Steve could see him, the man on the other side of the threshold was not quite what he had been expecting — he was dressed in what appeared to be a store-bought Captain America costume, in an adult size. Steve had seen several last week (Hallowe’en had certainly snowballed since Steve had gone guising as a boy — on the plus side, there was a lot less vandalism now).

“What, he sent someone else?” said the man. “That slimy, double-crossing piece of shit Warren. Wait till I get my hands on him.”

“Yeah,” said Tony uncomfortably, “I don’t think this is Warren’s fault — look, like I said, you’ll still get your fee, so…”

“Who are you, anyway?” the man asked Steve. “Never seen _you_ before. You new?”

“Never mind who he is,” said Tony. “There was a misunderstanding, it’s nobody’s fault. Well, no, it’s _my_ fault, obviously, which is an emerging pattern in my life, so let’s just —”

Steve put a soothing hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Young man,” he said, “you’re outstaying your welcome. You can leave or I can escort you out.”

Tony let out a strangled cough. It sounded at least partway amused.

“Ah, fuck the both of you,” said the man. “I better get my money, asshole.”

“You will,” said Tony, as Steve reached past him to close the door firmly.

“So,” said Tony, after a brief and heavy silence, “I guess you’ll be wanting an explanation, huh?”

“No,” said Steve. “I’d say it’s pretty obvious what happened here.”

“Yeah,” said Tony, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and nodding in the direction of the floor.

“Clearly this man misread his calendar,” Steve continued, “and was under the mistaken impression that it was appropriate to come trick-or-treating.”

Tony’s head snapped up. “Steve,” he said.

“ _So_ ,” said Steve, raising his eyebrows significantly, “how about we just forget all about it, and go back to what we were doing?”

“Uh,” said Tony, “are you sure?”

“I told you. I’ve thought about this. And I guess you have, too.”

Tony nodded.

“Good,” said Steve, stepping close to him. He reached out a hand to touch Tony’s cheek, and for a moment it looked as if Tony were going to lean into it, but then he started and took a step back, looking alarmed.

“I just thought. What did you come over for in the first place? Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

“No,” Steve assured him, “of course not. I would have told you. You’re not _that_ distracting.” Probably. “It’s just that, well, I was passing, and… I wanted to talk to you about…”

It seemed silly to bring up his pretext for coming here, now. He’d had no reason whatsoever to be passing Tony’s building. He’d just…

“I made up an excuse to come and visit,” he said, looking Tony right in the eyes. He was man enough to be honest about it.

Tony took his hand. “You don’t need an excuse to visit me,” he said.

“Well, I guess I know that now,” said Steve.

They smiled at each other for a few moments, hands hanging loosely between them, and then Tony frowned again.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, “does this mean there _could_ have been penetration?”

**Author's Note:**

> I got the "no penetration" thing from fun bi/poly show 'You Me Her'. I don't know if it's a thing in real life.
> 
> Tony's chestplate is obviously a lot less obtrusive in this 'verse.
> 
> 30/1/2019: Hi all! Just a quick note to say, first of all, thank you so much to all those who continue to read, comment and click the kudos button. I know I'm not always the best at replying to comments, but I really do appreciate you!
> 
> I wanted to let you know that I recently published an original novella. If you're interested, you can find it [here](https://lessthanthreepress.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_bookx_info&cPath=106_144&products_id=1658).


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